Kaleidoscope Heart
by DAIRdevil
Summary: What happens when her beloved "plausible deniability" turns into his "complete unavoidability"? Thousands of miles apart, and still driving eachother absolutely crazy.
1. The Art of Being Lonely

**A/N: I am so new to this that's it's not even funny. I don't even know where to put the Authors Note, thats how lost I am. This is my first fic, ever. So if anyone has any kind of criticism I will take anything I can get! I worked painstakingly hard at this. And it will break my heart if you don't like it. But please tell me what you think. And without furthur ado.. **

**kaleidoscope heart**_**  
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It had been one week since she'd left. One week he'd gone without her catty quips about his clothes, or his poor taste in literature and film. Even though they both knew they basically had the same Netflix queue and their bookshelves didn't vary much from the others either. One week of getting an extra coffee out of habit. Seven days of picking up the phone every couple of hours just to see that she hadn't tried to contact him in any way. All in all, it was 168 hours, accumulating into 7 days, making up one week of absolute torture. But he wasn't in the least bit surprised. Blair had that kind of effect on him. She brought him to two extremes: times that he hated her, and times that he hated being without her. This time was the latter. He shook his head and sighed loudly. He was frustrated. He _should_ be happy for her. But he wasn't. Her happiness with the Prince, caused him alot of _un_happiness. So he just couldn't be happy for her. He would just have to pretend.

...

She had been in Monaco for one week. She had done everything, seen everything, talked to everyone, and now she was bored. The palace was cold and empty & her fiance was preoccupied and distant while she was lonely and homesick. She sprawled on her queen sized bed in the far-off east corner of the palace, virtually the only place where she was allowed to go. She was forbidden to check Gossip Girl. It was almost like a drama vacation. One she was not particularly happy about taking. She tried to remain as bright-eyed and chipper as possible, but not even Blair Waldorf could fake that amount of sunshine. She did not at all care for all the rules and restrictions that were forced on her. She missed the freedom of being Blair Waldorf. She found herself missing Dan too, even though she knew she shouldn't. She pulled out her cellphone out of her pocket and typed out a text to her most and least favorite writer in Brooklyn; '_Roman Holiday. Tonite 8 my time. -B'_ . She sighed loudly and thought about smacking her head up against the wall, just to wake herself up. She was going to be a princess for crying out loud. She was going to marry Prince Louie and live out her happily ever after. She _should _be happy. She shouldn't be texting _Dan Humphrey_, and she definitely shouldnt _miss_ him. Somehow she blamed Dan. Everything was going great with Louie, until Dan Humphrey made her miss him. _Why am I not happy?_

_..._

He was drowning himself in his writing but it seemed like every sentence he wrote, reminded him of Blair. Every phrase he typed seemed like it could have a better formation or superior sequencing, and the little voice in his head, that had taken on the tone of Blair, made him fix it. He couldn't get away from her. It was impossible. She was everywhere he looked. He saw her in the movies he distracted himself with, the books he tried to read, the dreams he had, when he could get to sleep. He decided to check Gossip Girl for old times sake to see if anything, _anything_, could get his mind off of Blair Waldorf. He was obviously looking in the wrong place. Just before reading the blast, Dan felt his phone vibrate and his heart flutter as he read the message from the ever-so-distant Queen B. He beamed like a child when he typed his response, '_What else do I have to do at 2 in the morning?'_ Her time. Her rules. His case of sleep deprivation. But he was happy.

...

_**Why hello there Upper East Siders, Gossip Girl here.**_

_**It looks like we have a little case of "Damsel in Distress" on our hands.**_

_**It seems that our soon-to-be Queen B, isn't so happy with her fairytale after all.**_

_**Could it be she's missing some of her beloved UES drama? **_

_**Or is someone particular on her mind?**_

_**Oh Lonely Boy, it's starting to look like you're not the only one who's lonely.**_

_**xoxo**_

_**...**_

She slammed her lap top down on her bed and started pacing around her room, using explicits that shouldn't even be uttered by a sailor, much less a princess. She had somhow found a way around the internet blocks in order for her to check Gossip Girl for the first time in weeks. And she was very pissed. _Blair Waldorf does not get lonely!_ She thought as she paced around the room groaning and sighing, exhausted. She had over a billion things to do and millions of people to talk to. Lonely was not in Blair Waldorf's vocabulary. Sure, she hadn't seen Louie in a few days, and she was getting restless in this huge palace all to herself, "But I am not lonely." She said out loud, almost a little too loud, as if trying to convince anyone in close proximity or maybe trying to make it resonate in her own head. Maybe she was lonely. Is that why she wanted to talk to Dan Humphrey so badly? _Is that why I miss him?_ She thought to herself, suddenly flushed with the thought. _I do not miss Dan Humphrey.._ She just missed his coffee and his abhorant plaid clothing and his intelligent criticism over her favorite movies. She felt like she missed him a little too much. But she would _never_ miss Brooklyn.

...

He paced around the loft just waiting for the call. The one call that would brighten his now very dull life. He waited until exactly 8 o'clock on the dot, Monaco time, of course. And held his breath as he heard her very fitting ringtone, the Jaws theme song. He smiled to himself as he flipped open his phone with a, "Hey Waldorf." She could almost hear his goofy smile, the one she had grown to admire. "Hello Humphrey. Miss me?" She tried not to sound too hopeful. Even though she wouldn't admit it, she really did miss him. _Yes_, he thought. But he bit his tongue, "In your dreams Waldorf." He said quickly as he thought he heard a faint giggle across the phone. "More like nightmares, Cabbage Patch" And that was that. They watched the movie together as if it were the first time. They were unquestionably silent during some of the intense parts, she swooned at the love scenes, and they bickered about the plot. It was the first time either of them had laughed or even smiled in weeks. When the movie was over they talked for another hour or so. Her about the pains of being a princess in Monaco and him about the pains of being a writer in Brooklyn. "Alright you win, Humphrey. You're life is much more terrible than mine. I'd much rather be a princess than be in Brooklyn, any day." She giggled. And suddenly, without warning, the conversation got heavy. "Yes." Dan said quietly, almost hoping she wouldn't hear. "What?" She said quizzically, unsure of what exactly Dan was affirming. "Yes. I do miss you, Waldorf." There was silence on the other end of the phone, and he almost thought she had hung up, until he heard her sigh to herself and say, "I know, Humphrey." _I miss you too,_ she thought about saying but as she kept her pride intact said, "How about '_Paris When It Sizzles' _next week?" She heard him grumble a little, but he caved. Which they both knew, he always did. "Sure, Waldorf." And with that they hung up, far sooner than either of them wanted.

...

She didn't expect that she would feel like crying after hanging up with Humphrey. She didn't expect herself to care this much. She didn't expect him to miss her. And she definitely didn't expect that she would miss him too. More than anything, actually. Sure, she missed feeding the ducks in Central park or shopping with Serena, but she never expected how much she would miss watching movies with Dan Humphrey in his little loft in Brooklyn. If she was going to be honest with herself, she'd say that she missed him in a way that people who are more than friends miss each other. She quickly shook her head. _We're just friends,_ she thought. She plopped down on her queen sized bed, exasperated as the words _'just friends' _echoed in her head. They had been good friends. They liked the same kind of art, and they read the classics. She had never connected with any other guy the way she connected with Dan Humphrey. And it scared her. Out of all the things in the world she thought could happen, she never expected that she'd be the one to want more.

...

He laid in bed, unable to sleep. He tossed and turned. But no matter what he did he couldn't get himself to lie still; because he couldn't get his mind off Blair Waldorf. It was 5 in the morning, and they had just hung up the phone and he felt as though he were on an adrenaline high. But at the same time he felt like he was on a merry-go-round from hell with this girl. He told her he missed her but all she said was "I know, Humphrey." What is that supposed to mean? Does she miss him too? He felt as though he were tossing himself out to sea and being dragged right back in by her current. She had this cosmic pull on him, like she knew he would never ever be satisfied if he didn't have her and she liked it. It was almost like she enjoyed his misery. He rubbed the tired from his eyes, _Of course she enjoyed his misery, shes Blair Waldorf. _He wondered if Gossip Girl was right. _Maybe she is lonely, _he muttered quietly in his head. Then a thought came to Dan Humphrey as he lay in his twin sized bed across the bridge in Brooklyn. Out of all the people in the world she could've called to ease her boredom: Serena, Nate, Dorota, Chuck; she didn't pick up the phone and call any of them. She called _him_. He smiled very smugly to himself, _hell maybe she does miss me._ And that thought alone, kept him up the rest of the night.

...

She tried to come up with new games during her long lonely days in the palace. First, she counted all the books in the library that she had already read. She had read all hundred books but five. She got bored with that quickly. The next game she came up with was seeing how long she could blare the Spice Girls through the palace before someone asked her to turn it off. Record: 22 minutes. The last game was her favorite, she'd put on her favorite sun dress and take off to the maze in the garden. She found her favorite corner, laid out a thin blanket, and watched the clouds pass her by. This is where she thought of Dan. She thought about his smile, or his curly hair, and especially his horrendous taste in fashion. She smiled. She really did miss him. But what could she do? She was here, he was there, and she was getting married in a month. She felt as though she were locked in this tug of war between her heart and her brain. Her heart was confused, it had so many colors running through it that she didn't know what was real and what was just reflections off her kaleidoscope heart. Her brain was of absolutely no use. She knew what she should do, what was expected of her. But she didn't know what she wanted anymore. So she sat in the garden, staring up at the clouds, wondering if maybe her kaleidoscope heart was broken, because all she seemed to see when she closed her eyes, was Dan Humphrey.

...

He stared off into space, almost like a dream. He couldn't believe it. He had been published. Sure, the circumstances weren't the best and no one had really discovered him as the author, but _The Inside _was published. He almost wanted to thank Vanessa for doing what he didn't have the guts to. But now it was out there, everywhere, to be exact. He knew Serena would be too busy cruising around on Vespa's in California with the guy of the week to read it. And he didn't really care if anyone else in the Upper East Side read it. The only person he actually cared about, _and was terrified of_, reading it was Blair. He had put everything he thought, seen, and more importantly _felt_, into that book. And it was all about her. And everyone, especially Dan, knew that B couldn't resist reading anything about her. If he was being honest, he _wanted_ her to read it. He wanted her to realize just how lonely they both were without eachother. How lost and alone they had become, ever since she left. He wanted her to see why everyday he woke up and got two coffees because he just can't get over her. He wanted her to see how she absolutely frustrates him to no end, and still manages to make him love her. He had no idea what she had over him, but when it came to surface, all he wanted to do was make her see what she put him through.

...

_**Gossip Girl here,**_

_**Well, well, it seems as if someone has been hiding their true potential all these years. Huh, Lonely boy?**_

_**The Inside seems to be a groundbreaking success. (Or shall I say, Upper East Side-breaking?) **_

_**But I wonder if it would be such a hit in Monaco?**_

_**Don't worry, Lonely boy, i'll save you a stamp and the trouble;**_

_**I've already sent B her own copy.**_

_**Signed, sealed, and delivered.**_

_**xoxo**_

_**...**_

His insides were jelly. She was _not_ going to like this. He paced around his loft. He had written the words that formed the sentences that explained how much he cared about her. And she was not going to like it. Knowing Blair, he would receive a scathing yet brief phone call or just more silence. He hadn't decided which one he would dislike more. At least being yelled at by Blair Waldorf was hearing her voice. Her silence was just torture. He had gotten a text from her this morning about the movie plans, so obviously she hasn't received Gossip Girl's package yet. So he was treasuring the minutes he got to speak to her because when she did finally read the book, he was so afraid that the only bright thing in his life would fade away.

...

She was sitting lazily around trying haphazardly to read something Dan recommended by Fitzgerald, while rewatching her favorite Audrey Hepburn movies, when someone knocked on her thick mahogany door. She went to it quickly, half-hoping it was Louie. She opened it and sighed when she realized it was not. Although she wasn't surprised. "Miss Waldorf?" The messenger said in a thick french accent. She nodded with a "oui." She signed for the parcel of brown paper wrapped with a big red bow. The sender information said the package was from "_**The good old UES**_". She quickly unwrapped the parcel, knowing that if this was from who she thought it was from, it obviously wasn't very good. She was surprised to find that it was a book. She flipped through it's pages nonchalantly and was confused when a note fell from it:

_**Well look at what's been rocking the UES in the absence of the Queen.**_

_**Who knew he had it in him? **_

_**And you won't believe who it's about. **_

_**xoxo**_

_**~ GG**_

_**(p.s. I especially enjoyed pages 180-205)**_

She shook her head, confused. Who was she talking about? Obviously if it was that important for Gossip Girl to send her this book, it was important enough to read. She turned to the first page of _The Inside_ and began reading. By the end of the first sentence, of the first paragraph, of the first page, of his first novel, Blair knew Dan had written it. By the end of the first chapter, she had thrown the book across the room. _Humphrey._ She thought, _that little cabbage patch kid turned all of our adolescent experiences into a book! _How long had he been writing this? She sat on the edge of her bed and she felt her mind scramble, _why didn't he tell me?_ She sighed and begrudgingly went over to pick up the book. She decided to finish reading it. All she had read about so far was an often times confused blonde named Sarah, and a poor writer boy from across the bridge named David. She rolled her eyes. _This might as well be nonfiction. _She quickly climbed into her bed and began chapter two, filled with apprehension.

...

She had called to cancel their movie date, on account of "Royal business, that you would know nothing of, Humphrey." But she promised she would send him her review of the movie anyway. So not all was lost, yet. If she did receive the book, she didn't let on about it. That eased his mind. Maybe she wouldn't know who wrote it, or maybe she wouldn't even read it at all. He sighed dramatically as he clasped his hands behind his neck. Of course she would read it. And she would definitely know who wrote it. Suddenly, he was beginning to regret writing it at all. He wrote every feeling he ever had in that book, and as his feelings started to change, the book changed with them. Sarah's constant drama and indecisiveness had left David with her spitfire best friend, Audrey. He almost grinned at his own creativity. If he knew Blair would like one thing about his book, it would be that she was named after her favorite Hepburn. As time passed, Dan and Blair went to more movies, and they both realized, but neither of them admitted, that they had a real connection. And that's when the whole book changed. It wasn't about this poor writer boys struggle into the inner circles of the upper east side, it was about her. It was always about her.

...

She's at the end of chapter 3, and she just dropped the book in the bathtub as she was reading it. She hadn't meant to, of course. But she was at the early part of the book where the protagonist and antagonist are clearly distinguishable, and you know what side you're rooting for. But with this book, there was none of that. And she had just read the part where the mean girl best friend comes in. She rolled her eyes, obviously this is where the Blair Waldorf bashing would begin. But right as she went to turn the page she saw it, what he had decided upon naming her. The infamous bitch with the golden heart of the upper east side would be forever known as, "Audrey." She whispered to herself as her sheer shock made her unintentionally drop the book into the suds and bubbles of the bathtub. _Shit, _she thought as she hurriedly tried to save the dripping book. She sighed as she blowdried the poor paperback. She had to finish it. She just had to. He named her Audrey. She smiled. And then it hit her, she ran through her room, across her bed, to her nightstand where she found her Kindle. In 60 seconds or less, she had '_the Inside' _on her comparably very dry Kindle. She started reading. And she didn't stop. She had to know how he felt about her.

...

He hadn't heard from her in 2 weeks. She had sent her film review of 'Paris When it Sizzles' last week, but heard nothing from her after that. He called, _straight to voicemail_. He texted,_ no reply_. He emailed, _nothing_. He knew she got the book, because this was the punishment she was giving him, silence. And he hated it. But he didn't want to give up. How could he give up on the only thing he could think about? So he would grit his teeth and bear through it, like only Dan Humphrey could. Finally, he convinced himself to just stop caring. Trying to stop caring about Blair Waldorf was like trying to stop breathing. It killed him, but this was the price he had to pay for making his feelings known. She didn't love him back, and she never would.

...

_**Oh Lonely boy, things just got a whole hell of a lot more lonely, didn't they?**_

_**Don't worry, maybe the Queen will trade in a palace for a loft.**_

_**A prince for a pauper.**_

_**xoxo**_

_**...**_

She had finished the book half an hour ago, but she was still sitting in the same position with the same expression on her face. The book had thrown her for a loop. The bitchy best friend became the protagonist. As she put herself on the line for her friends, nearly died when she had her heart broken, and came out a resilient version of herself. In the end of the book, precisely pages 180-205, the pages Gossip Girl shared as her favorite part, David declared his unwavering feelings towards Audrey. 25 pages of "David" saying everything he likes about "Audrey" and how he is irrevocably, unrestainably, in love with everything about her. She thought of the quote in her head, "You show me everything good in the world. With one smile, you bring the sun out of the clouds and I feel like I can breathe again, just because you looked at me." Tears started to slowly form in her eyes as she bit her lips and closed her eyes. She felt so many different emotions coursing through her veins. Her heart rate sped up as she tried to catch her breath and the tears falling from her eyes. She was angry at Dan. Not because of what he said, but because he hadn't said it a lot sooner. _If this is how he feels why can't he just tell me? _She was confused. And one thought sent shivers down her spine and a fluttering in her stomach: _I think I love him. _She then got a sick feeling in her stomach as she looked around her marvelous room, in this glorious palace, that belonged to her fiance and his family. She gazed down at the tremendous rock that was fashioned on her finger. She gulped, _either way someone's heart is going to be broken. _She sighed and hoped she was right about this, or the person with the broken heart would be her.

...

He was laying on his couch watching Rosemary's Baby for the third time this week, when he heard his computer ding. He wasn't anxious to get to it, somehow knowing that it wouldn't be Blair. But his curiosity peaked him, since everyone on the Upper East Side, besides Nate, was freezing him out, he decided to go see who emailed him. He nearly passed out when he saw her name flash across his computer screen. In the subject line it said, "_The Inside review_". He couldn't open it fast enough. There he saw an immense blow by blow of his book. She criticized the plot line as "unrelatable", and his characters as "far-fetched" and "unrealistic." With the ending being "lack-luster" and "disappointing." His heart felt ripped to pieces. She had read the book, and didn't make the connection, or she just didn't care. He had basically put his heart down on paper, just to watch her rip it up. He felt his heart beat through his chest and he almost closed the email without reading the very last line of the review:

_**I love you too, Humphrey.**_

_**...**_


	2. Defining Deniability

A/N: Gosh I love feedback! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed my first chapter! I love love love hearing what you guys have to say. It means so much to me! I had originally done KH as a one shot but after all the encouraging words I decided to continue it. There are so many things I want to do with this story, so many places I want this to go. So onward, shall we?

**Defining Deniability**

He blinked, hard. He read the words over and over again. Had she meant them? He kept shutting his eyes and opening them back up slowly just to see if the words would still be there. Those 5 words that proved that he hadn't been crazy, that she felt it too. The phrase that made the last two months of being frenemies with Blair Waldorf worth it. The coffee, the movies, the banter. This is what it all led up to, _Love_. That word made his stomach do 360 flips and made his heart flutter. But somehow he knew that just because she wrote it in an email, didnt mean she was ready to admit it to him, or herself. She was Blair Waldorf. And he was Dan Humphrey. And they both knew there was nothing Blair Waldorf loved more than some good, old fashioned _'plausible deniability'_. Somehow he knew that this wouldn't mean that she'd be on the next plane to New York. As far as he knew, she was still getting married. As far as she knew, he hadn't read the email yet. For a second, both of them were in this topsy turvy world where Blair Waldorf could love Dan Humphrey, and Dan Humphrey could trust Blair Waldorf. He loved her. And she had written the words_ "I love you too, Humphrey." _But he couldn't get that feeling out of the pit of his stomach telling him that it didn't change anything.

...

She stared off into space as she nonchalantly hyperventilated into a brown paper bag. Normally, Blair Waldorf would find some other way to relieve her stress, but all she could find was the brown paper bag. And right now, she'd take whatever she could get. She had just done the impossible. She, _Blair Waldorf_, had just admitted to being in _love _with _Dan Humphrey_. There was no beating around the bush with Blair Waldorf. She was as subtle as a neon flashing banner. And as serious as a heart attack. After reading the last page of his book, and the declaration to go with it, she realized that she didn't have the energy nor the patience to even pretend to think about this. She knew she loved him. She felt it in the deep pit of her stomach. It had made itself known in her smile, her laugh, this glow that Dan had given her. She loved him. And it was terrifying but she knew it. And now he knew it too. Queen B had written, on paper, that she was in love with Lonely Boy. She shook her head and continued breathing. _What the hell am I doing?_ She was absolutely terrified that this would end up being a situation that even "plausible deniability" couldn't solve. Because how could she plausibly deny the overwhelming fact that she was ass-backwards in love with Dan Humphrey?

...

The call had come to him out of the blue. He was making some coffee while trying to read the reviews of his book in the New Yorker. He had no idea that at that very second, Blair Waldorf would be calling him. He didn't look at his phone when he flipped it open, expecting a call from his dad.  
>"Hello" he said nonchalantly, while he took a sip of his coffee<p>

"Bonjour, Humphrey."  
>She said it quickly, but with no illusion to anything that had been happening in the last few days. He nearly spit his coffee out right there. He hadn't expected a call from her. He was going to call her, if he ever garnered up the nerve or ever thought of what to say. But he certainly did not expect <em>her<em> to call _him_.

"Blair.. uh.. hi" He quietly sputtered out, trying not to sound like he had just hit cloud nine or that he had the minor inclination to throw up.

"Well?" She sounded somewhat irritated but softer than normal.

"Well what?" he said suddenly nervous.

"_Well, Humphrey_, are we going to watch Roman Holiday or do I have to listen to do you sputter like a troglodyte for an hour and a half?" He heard her give in to a slight giggle.

"Roman Holiday?" was all he could manage to say.

"It's Monday Humphrey, Monday is movie night. We've been over this several times." Her voice became soft at the end, as if they both knew what she meant to say and they both recognized that she couldn't say it.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, Waldorf, I forgot." He got up from his place at the counter and went to pop the movie in.

They carried on with light conversation and heavy banter as the movie went on. As the ending approached, Blair suddenly went silent for a few moments before saying, "How.. how are you?" She felt a lump in her throat form as she struggled to get the sentence out.

"I'm alright." He said hesitantly, wanting to say something more.

"That's great." Her voice sounded weak and soft. She inhaled sharply before she carried on, "I read your book." He felt the color drain from his face, they were going to talk about it. They were actually going to talk about the book where he professed everything he had ever felt for Blair Waldorf, the book that provoked her into writing those five stagnant words, "_I love you too, Humphrey."_

He suddenly got the courage to blurt out, "I know, I got your email." The line went silent. She paused, shell shocked, for a beat.

"Oh?" was all she could come up with. She felt like smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand.

"Thanks for reminding me how brutally honest you can be." He said suddenly.

She took a quick intake of air, "Anytime, Humphrey." This was hell. Why couldn't they just say what they felt?

"So, uh, it was all true?" he questioned, more to himself.

"What was?" She countered, trying to plausibly find a way to deny the words she typed in the email. Those five words that made her doubt every decision she was making.

"Your review." He spoke quietly, as if he understood everything, when he couldn't possibly have any idea.

She swallowed, hard. "Every word." The tone in her voice conveyed a deeper meaning. "What about you?" She almost choked on the words as they left her mouth. "The book I mean, was that all true?" She closed her eyes for only a moment before she heard his reply.

Without missing a beat Dan answered, "Every word." She felt her face flush as her body filled with emotions as he struggled to make his voice sound cavalier and nonchalant; when he honestly had no idea where he found the courage.

"I'm coming back to New York." She finally said with an air of certainty.

He couldn't stop himself, "You are?" he said with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Only for a couple of days, I forgot a few things." She said quietly.

"Oh." He said.

She repeated his sentiments, "Oh." She paused briefly, soldiering on, "If you would be interested.." She spoke hesitantly, "They're showing _Ingres _at the Morgan." She smiled to herself remembering all the art exhibits they used to go to together, even if she had an exit strategy planned.

He groaned, "_Ingres,_ really? Why would you want to go see the crass symbolism of every poor guy in France claiming to be an artist?" He let out a low chuckle, knowing that this would get a rise out of her.

She rolled her eyes, "Yes, Humphrey, _Ingres._ Heportrays the incredible variety of struggles the mighty faced as well as the boroughs of the poor. You would know all about that wouldn't you, Humphrey?" She scoffed, she missed this, arguing with him over every little thing. She missed _him._

He laughed softly, "Well, Waldorf, I'll see if I can steal away a moment from my lowly borough, and try to look past your unbelievable people skills, to go and see it." He heard her giggle at this, just enough to make him smile.

"And I'll try to look past the fact that you live in Brooklyn, _and_ _try_ to overlook your unfortunate proclivity to dress yourself in plaid."

They hadn't spoken a word about his 205 page declaration of love to her, or her five word resolve of her feelings for him. But they talked about _Roman Holiday_, the new exhibit at the Met that they _shouldn't _go see, and the weather. Even talking to him about rain made her feel perfectly content. And somehow, unbelievably happy. Talking about inconsistent rain and ubiquitous gloom, while listening to her talk about unremitting sunshine and a flood of royal wannabes, made him feel more alive than he had in weeks. They tiptoed around their feelings, in some unspoken agreement that they would have plenty of time to talk about it when she got back to New York. At that thought they both received a shiver down their spines. She would be coming back to the city, where he would be waiting.

...

_**Look out Upper East Siders;**_

_**Word on the street is, Queen B is coming back to the city.**_

_**Question is, what exactly is she coming back for?**_

_**Any ideas, Lonely Boy?**_

_**xoxo **_

_**...**_

The night before her mid-morning flight back to New York, Blair Waldorf had a dream. It came to her in a flash; brief, urgent, desperate. All she felt was her heart race, her lips crash into his, and his hand on her shoulder. All she could see was the inside of her eyelids as sparks flew around the room. All she could do was let it happen. So she laid there, dreaming about kissing Dan Humphrey. Until she felt as though she were going to explode. She woke up in a hot sweat as she sat up in her bed and looked around the room. Her heart was racing and she felt a tingle in her stomach as she laid back down on her bed in an exhausted heap. All the while her mind scrambled to come up with an explanation as she gingerly bit her lip over her suspicions. _Did I just have a dirty dream about Humphrey?_

_..._

It was three in the morning. And he was sleeping. Well he was _supposed_ to be sleeping, when he heard his phone harshly crush the silence of his loft. He picked it up hurriedly, only wanting it to stop ringing. Eyeing the name that flashed across the screen, he suddenly felt different. "Waldorf?" He spoke quietly until he realized that he was the only person in the loft. He didn't sit up. He just laid there. "Cabbage Patch." She said equally as quiet while she smiled at the nickname she had given him so long ago. He softly grumbled, "What is it, Blair?" He ran his hand over his face, _why did i pick up? _And then an even more prominent and confusing question came to mind, _why can't I get over her?_ "Well if I had known you would be so _grouchy_, I would have never called, Humphrey." She sounded a little taken back but she continued, "I wanted to know if you would be busy in about sixteen hours?" His eyes popped open and he suddenly felt a little bit nervous, "Uhm. Yeah, I think I would be free at.." He did the math quickly, "..11 p.m. tonight, why?" His brow furrowed, as hers did too. "Well I was wondering if you could pick me up from the airport." Her voice held a curious kind of charm about it. She continued quickly, "If it wouldn't be too much trouble or take you away from enjoying your very leisurely life in Brooklyn." Without skipping a beat he replied, "I'm sure I can pull myself away for one night." She thanked him curtly and hung up. He caught his breath and smiled a little. _Shes coming back to New York. And the first person she wants to see is me._

_..._

She stepped out on her terrace, gazing at the dark sky unable to find the peace that traced it's horizons. Unable to find the urge to sleep. She hated this. Not being able to talk to him about anything. Not her impending wedding, not about how much she missed New York, and definitely not about this little matter of her being in love with him. It was torture. She felt like she was right there for him to take, to want, to love. All he had to do was say the word. She wasn't going to abandon all her fairytale dreams for the pauper from Brooklyn only on unspoken emotions written in a book. She needed to hear it. She needed him to say it. She didn't realize just how much until right this second. As she's standing on her balcony overlooking one of the most beautiful skylines she's ever seen, in the country she would soon be known as the princess of. But no matter how beautiful or breathtaking Monaco was, the only place she seemed to want to be, out of all the places on the face of the Earth she could wish, was Brooklyn. And it boggled her mind, but the only person she was really coming back to see, was Dan. Out of all the things she could possibly want, she wanted Dan Humphrey.

...

He couldn't help his restless excitement. He bounced out of bed with a vigor he hasn't seen for quite some time. He made his coffee, and ate his waffles, everything tasting like something new he's just now trying. That's what she did to him. Even though she complained about his fashion sense, or clamored about his relationship woes, she knew just what to say. What buttons to push. How to get to him. She made him feel alive. And it was a feeling that he hadn't felt in a very long time. He was almost infatuated with this sense of emotion she gave him. This rush of excitement mixed with very slight annoyance and complete vulnerability. Like he was on the edge and the only thing that could save him was this rope that she dangled over his head. Begging him to reach for it. But if he did, he was afraid he would fall. He was afraid that everything he had been reaching for would be gone in an instant. And that feeling that garnered in the pit of his stomach made his head dizzy and his insides turn. _What if this is a mistake? What if she hadn't meant what she said? She was probably just lonely or bored, so she decided to mess with me._ He shook his head. _No._ She meant them. He knew she did. He felt it. Her words coursed through his whole body like some kind of toxin that he couldn't detox from. _"I love you too, Humphrey."_ She wouldn't have said it if she hadn't of meant it. She was Blair Waldorf, she doesn't say anything she doesn't mean. _Well.. not when it comes to stuff like this, not when she could get hurt just as much as I could. _She could avoid and deny it all she wanted, but they both knew that those five words meant something. It meant the world for her to say them, and everything for him to hear them. They could both dance around the subject but no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't plausibly deny that they weren't _"just friends" _anymore.

...

She sat in first class, _The Inside_ in one hand and a steadily shaking glass of water in the other. She reread the last few pages of the book, and wondered if she would feel this way even if Gossip Girl hadn't sent her his novel. She nodded to herself. _Yes_. She would still feel the effervescent pull of the "_Humphrey Effect_." She would still feel like a giddy high school girl when they talked on the phone, and she would still say scathing things about his favorite literary works, just to see if she could get a rise out of him. _Yes_, she thought, _even if I hadn't read the book, I would still love him_. She felt that it was inevitable. They felt as they were opposites who had no chance of attracting. They didn't know how wrong they were. That _kiss_. When she thought about it, her face flushed and she looked around to see if anyone noticed how off guard the memory caught her. There was _definitely_ something there. She didn't know if he saw it, but she denied ever seeing the sparks and the magnificent chemistry that was registered through that kiss. It was something. Something even Blair Waldorf couldn't find a legitimate excuse for. She suddenly grew nervous, almost wanting the pilot to turn around and take her back to Monaco, back to her safe empty castle where her feelings could remain to themselves. This amount of feeling made her feel overwhelmingly vulnerable. As if at any moment this bubble she was floating in, would pop and she would free fall plummet back to reality. She desperately wanted this to be real. To not believe the little voice in her head telling her that this was a bad idea. She tuned out the voice. This _had_ to be done, she _had_ to know. For once and for all. She needed him to tell her the truth so she could figure out what she really wanted. She had no idea what it would change or what she would do if he did admit his feelings for her with the love and passion she so desperately desired. But somehow it was the only thing she could think of. She needed to look him in the eye and ask him if what he felt about her was real, if what he thought they had could last in the big bad world._ If they could even get the nerve to face it_. She exhaled slowly, closing her eyes for a minute. _God help me._ She almost shuddered as the wheels of the plane haphazardly hit the runway. _Alright Waldorf,_ she thought to herself breathing in as much air as she could, _let's go see if we love Dan Humphrey, shall we?_

_..._

_**Oh Queen B, I hope your flight was smooth.**_

_**Because I've heard that ride across the bridge is rough one.**_

_**xoxo**_

_**...**_


	3. If Only Superglue Were Enough

**A/N: I love Dair, it's as simple and obsessive as that (: And I love writing this fic. I hope to keep you guys entertained for as long as possible. So with that being said I'd like to introduce you to the magic of "the slow burn." It's torturous and angsty, but I promise you, so _so_ worth it. I feel like i'm being blabbery. So here we go..**

**Another A/N: I was feeling a bit inspired this morning, so i'm starting something new. This chapter will be first person point of view for both Dan and Blair. It may just be for this chapter, but if you guys like it I could use it more. No more authors notes, I promise. :D**

**After this one.. A/N: I LOVE REVIEWS :D they make me unbelievably happy. Thank you to all my reviewers for your kind and encouraging words. Honorable mention of the day goes to Wishful Dreaming, your review gave me a pep talk and the kick in the butt I needed. So for that, I thank you. (:**

_**Chapter 3: If Only Superglue Was Enough**_

_Jesus,  
><em>I thought to myself as I tried to select an outfit suitable to pick Blair Waldorf up from the airport in.  
>I shook my head as I realized that there was <em>no<em> suitable outfit where Blair was concerned.  
>I want to impress her, I really do. But I am not the kind of guy to act like <em>that.<em>  
>And what I mean by <em>that<em> is, I'm not the kind of guy to let some girl, that may or may not love me, determine what I wear or how I act. I rolled my eyes at that thought,  
><em>it's not like Blair Waldorf needs any permission from me.<br>_Blair Waldorf doesn't need _any_ permission from _anyone_.  
>She's Queen B.<br>She's the one who makes girls cry for wearing tights as pants.  
>She's the one that tried to ruin my relationship with Serena.<br>She's the one that vowed to destroy my sister.  
>But that was the Blair we all grew to fear.<br>or in my case be extremely annoyed with.  
>But I can't deny that she's changed, somewhat.<br>She has this hidden air of vulnerability.  
>It's buried and she hides it with her quick insults and somewhat-icy glares, but it's still there.<br>It just takes some digging to find.  
>Blair may have done all those things I said she had, but now she was just Blair, the girl that may or may not love me and who I may or may not love back. To this thought, I let a low laugh escape my lips, <em>had we ever decided who exactly I'm trying to fool?<em>  
>I sighed to myself as I rustled my hair with my hand. I had an errand to run before I picked her highness up. I felt my heart jump in my chest, shes actually coming home.<br>If anything can be said about Blair it's this, she keeps me on my toes.  
>She may be the evil dictator of taste, but she's also the girl that made me love her, dragging me from Brooklyn, kicking and screaming.<br>I let out a long breath that I didn't know I was holding.  
>This was going to be a long night.<p>

...

Baggage claim was horrendous.  
>It took absolutely forever.<br>I have never seen such mediocre service as in this airport.  
>"Hmph." I groaned as I heaved my Louis Vuitton luggage off of the carousel of bags and suitcases. <em>The sooner I get out of here, the better, <em>I thought to myself as I made my way to the door. I hadn't expected to see Humphrey at the gate. I told him to pick me up from the airport, not pick me up from the airplane. We weren't like that, that wasn't _us._ _What in God's name am I talking about? Us? _There is no "us". There is me and then there is Dan Humphrey. Two completely seperate entities. No comma, just a period. I sighed as I strode through the automatic doors towards the circle pick-up station of the airport. I was completely surprised when I looked up to find Dan. Car keys in one hand, coffee in the other. He must've just gotten the coffee, because it was still steaming.  
>I roll my eyes almost instantly,<br>"Humphrey. What are you thinking? It's past 11 p.m., you really think I need java right now?"  
>I bit my lip, eagerly awaiting his reply to my off-brand greeting.<br>This was us.  
><em>This<em> is what we were.  
>Verbal sparring partners.<br>"Well theres the 8 hour jetlag and from the sounds of that hello, I'm leaning towards yes."  
>He brandished his quirky, boy-next-door smile and helped me with my luggage.<br>I felt myself lose temporary control of my senses when I saw him smile.  
>That smile did things to me.<br>Things that a smile from an on-again-off-again friend shouldn't do.  
>I struggled with slowing down my heart rate.<br>Once I had accomplished that minor feat, I roll my eyes quickly. "Where's my car?" I asked, looking around for my towncar as I glared at him, less than pleased.  
><em>There he goes with that boyish grin again.<em>  
>"We aren't taking your car.."<br>He says slowly, pushing the luggage cart towards the parking lot, smirking to himself the whole way.  
>"Oh God, Humphrey. <em>Please<em> don't tell me.." I stopped dead in my tracks and gave him a serious look.  
>All he could do was shrug and say, "Fine, then I won't tell you."<br>I growled, "Humphrey!"  
>I swatted at his arm. He led me over to his fathers old car, the one we had gone on our "roadtrip" in.<br>If I rolled my eyes one more time they were going to pop out of my head.  
>"Humphrey, what part of 'Can you pick me up from the airport?' don't you quite understand?"<br>I let out a small noise of frustration that I don't even know what to call,  
>"That would entail me actually making it <em>home<em> from the airport."  
>I put my hands on my hips and gave him a less than approving glare and waited for him to respond. But all he could manage to do was laugh at my displeasure.<br>"We'll make it home just fine, Waldorf. And if I do remember correctly, we had some pretty good times in this car." He snorted, obviously being sarcastic remembering the hijinks of our renegade "Get Juliet and Save Serena" mission.  
>"Well, Humphrey, I'm so glad that you treasure our moments in this steel death trap because after this ride, I doubt we'll have any more." I pause and sigh, frustrated, "If we even survive the car ride."<br>He started loading my luggage into the very small trunk of the minature car.  
>"There she is."<br>He said as he took a break from loading and turned to look at me.  
>"There who is?"<br>I asked skeptically, looking around for a second. It took a moment for him to answer, but when he did he looked at me with a very sincere face as he contemplated his next move.  
>"The Blair Waldorf I know and.." his voiced trailed off, unsure of where to go next.<br>I swallowed, as soft as I could. That certainly shut me up. I leaned my back against the hazard of a car while he tryed to shove the rest of my luggage in the car.  
>"Easy Humphrey!"<br>I interjected, my voice feeling unusually small.  
>"That's Louis Vuitton."<br>I swatted his arm and we both let out a low laugh as I turned to my coffee to take a sip.  
>"I don't know Waldorf, Mr. Vuitton might just have to ride on the roof."<br>To this, I dropped the cup from my lips and hit Dan's arm two or three or four times as I gasped,  
>"Blasphemy!"<br>We both laughed easily, and for a moment it felt like I had never left.  
>It was then that he looked into my eyes like he was trying to bend a spoon or something, and sighed, as he gingerly looked into my eyes,<br>"I missed you, Waldorf."  
>I looked away quickly, unsure of what to say, I slipped into the car and shut the door. It was on the tip of my tongue. I felt it, resting there. Just waiting to pop out of my mouth, <em>I missed you too.<em> But there was that little voice in my head, _"You're playing with fire, Blair."_  
>The little voice captured the words on my lips and covered my mouth. I closed my eyes briefly before Dan finished packing up the luggage and climbed into the car.<br>"Let's go, Humphrey." I breathed almost silently,  
>"I can't be stuck at the airport with Dan Humphrey all night."<br>"Of course not, Blair." He started up the car and before I knew it we were moving faster than the lights, or that's what I thought. I looked out the window and cursed myself, I had a chance to say something and I didn't. And as far as I was concerned, that makes me a coward.

_..._

_**And she's back,**_

_**Take cover.**_

_**xoxo**_

_**...**_

It's there in that moment when I see her breath hitch in her throat on the verge of speaking, that's when I feel it. She slides into the car avoiding my eyes and I let out the breath that I knew I had been holding. That's when I felt it. My heart. As soon as it saw her it automatically started pumping with all it had in it. It almost felt like while she was away, my heart had forgotten how to beat.  
>Truly beat.<br>Not in the literal sense of course, I would be dead.  
>I shook my head, <em>damn my writers brain<em>.  
>It's like my heart had taken up where it had left off, when she left.<br>This unabashed thrashing in my ears. No it couldnt be just simple beating or pounding.  
>With Blair, nothing was simple. It had to be complicated and constrewed and unrelentless.<br>My heart literally had to stop working, just to see how much it needed her.  
>I felt it oil itself, tighten it's loose parts and rev it's engine up when I saw her smile.<br>It's almost like she taught my heart how to beat again. She taught my breath how to catch in my throat. She taught my voice to tremble. She taught the butterflies in my stomach how to flutter.  
>If I was being completely honest with myself, I would admit that I haven't been happy in weeks.<br>The only times I experienced brief joy is when I was talking to her, or emailing her, or dreaming about her. It was all her. And she read it. She saw it. I spent the last twenty five pages of my book expressing my unrequitted love for her. And those words. The ones she wrote in the email. _'  
>I love you too, Humphrey.'<em>  
>They had to mean something. If they didn't she could say that she missed me too. The reason that she can't is because she loves me. She doesn't want to. But she does. And that's why she can't say it. She's afraid.<br>This is the vulnerable Blair that no one ever sees. She puts on that mask and everything is fine.  
>I know better. I see right through that mask, and I wish I could just reach over and take it off of her. She always had her guard up, even with me. <em>Why?<em> I sighed a little bit too loud.  
>Causing her to stir in the seat next to me.<br>"What is it, Humprey? Are we out of gas or whatever this toy car runs on.."  
>Her voice trails off as she looks at me, concerned.<br>I let out another exasperated noise.  
>"What's the problem, Humphrey?"<br>She says quietly glancing at me nervously.  
>I turn the car off abruptly and almost scream at her, unintentionally,<br>"You, Blair! The problem is you."  
>I quickly get out of the car, avoiding her eyes as I move to get her luggage out of the car. I should've known that I would unleash a diatribe upon myself.<p>

...

"The problem is you."  
>He sputters out loudly. I wince at his volume. He gets out of the car and slams the door. And I just sit there, dumbfounded, staring at the dash.<br>_I'm the problem?  
><em>I suddenly feel furious. This anger brewing in my stomach and working its way through the rest of my body. I grabbed the handle of the door and shoved it open and pulled myself out, slamming the door on my way. "I'm the problem? _I'M _the problem?" I say fuming, as I cross my arms over my chest and approach Dan. "Are you kidding me?" I wait for a response and he doesnt give it to me. He just continues to remove my luggage from his car. He's obviously upset, I can see it written on his face, but I don't care. He finally huffs out an answer while putting down the last suitcase.  
>"Yes. You are the problem." He gives me a serious look, and I stand there, mouth gaping.<br>"How can I be the problem?" I spout out, equally upset.  
>He looks at me, reflecting my expression, "Are you serious?" He shakes his head and moves the bags toward the door.<br>"That's not an answer, Humphrey!"  
>I almost scream at him, staying firmly planted in my place near the car parked on the street outside my penthouse. He stops then, and turns slowly dropping the bags gently.<br>"God, do you know how frustrating you are? _This _is why _you _are the problem, Waldorf."  
>He slams the trunk shut and shoots a glare my way.<br>Something I didn't think he could possibly do.  
>"I am most <em>definitely not <em>the problem, Humphrey!"  
>I walk around to make him face me.<br>"Of course not, Blair. You could never be the problem. You just spend your whole life behind some mask trying to hide your feelings and boss everyone around while you sit on your imaginary throne. I'm not sure if this is news to you, but you don't get to dictate how other people feel."  
>I gasp, unsure why his words cut so deep. I think he sees the hurt in my face because his eyes soften considerably. But I shake the tears off and I can't bite my tongue any longer.<br>I can't keep it in, this bitter, hot, bubbling anger I feel.  
>"Atleast, I didn't write all my feelings down in a memoir about my life on the Upper East Side, and then I can't even admit to anything I wrote! Yes, Humphrey. You are <em>so<em> much better than me.  
>I may hide behind a mask but atleast I'm honest about who I am, while you hide behind your words.<br>Because we both know, they are _never _what you truly mean."  
>The passion comes back to his eyes as they flash towards me, moving closer.<br>"I don't think we want to go into the 'I can't admit my own feelings' subject Blair,  
>because I'm afraid you'd take the prize on that one."<br>His words are bitter and his voice is harsh.  
>"You can't honestly be serious, 'Mr. I'm going to sulk in Brooklyn for the rest of my life because I was too much of a coward to tell a certain someone how I feel.'"<br>We're now going toe to toe in the middle of Manhattan.  
>"And what about you? Mrs. I'm going to write, <em>I love you too, Humphrey, <em>in an _email_. And then ignore the fact that I ever said it at all. Or even care about how it made that _certain Humphrey _feel!  
>You are completely oblivious to anyone else's feelings but yours, Blair."<br>We're in eachothers faces, screaming.  
>We don't even see how ridiculous or crazy we look, we're just laying it all on the table, right here right now. When he speaks to me, I hear the anger and frustration.<br>And I hear it in my voice too. We're both just angry and frustrated. But I continue,  
>"I do care, Dan! I freaking care! Alright? <em>I CARE!<em> But what the hell does it change, Humphrey? You are _Dan Humphrey_. And I am _Blair Waldorf._ And I am getting _married_. Me admiting that I care doesnt change a damn thing, and you know it. So what's the point? It's not going to change the way things are. So why don't we just spare ourselves the humiliation and leave it where it is."  
>My voice grows soft, as I realize where we are. In the middle of the city, screaming our heads off at eachother, because of what? Because we love eachother and both of us are too scared to do anything about it. I catch my breath, and out of my peripheral vision I see him run a hand over his face, completely overcome with everything I just said. He turns to me, his voice soft but still with its edge,<br>"Nowhere. That's where it is. It isn't anywhere. And it never was."  
>I gulp down the light sobs catching themselves in my throat and nod.<br>He storms past me and gets in his car. I can barely catch my breath before he's gone.  
>Down the avenue, just another pair of headlights in the stiffled emotionless mass of New York.<p>

...

_**Oh, Queen B, I'm not going to say I didn't warn you. **_

_**When you play with love,**_

_**prepare to lose.**_

_**I hope you've got superglue for that heart of yours.**_

_**xoxo**_

_**...**_


	4. Keep Your Hands on the Wheel

A/N: Love love LOVE the reviews I'm gettin' guys! :D They brighten my life. And I know I'm being terrible and writing this long angsty love story. But I promise you, this is a _love _story. And we _will _get there. Anyway, this chapter is sort of a half and half mix of POV's. Yes, _exactly _like chex mix. The first have is 3rd person and the last half or so is 1st person Blair and Dan. Just so side by side, you guys can see which one you like more and which one I need to work on a little bit more. Like I've always said, good reviews are a writers best friend (:

Another A/N: I have NO idea why this chapter gave me so much trouble, I guess because it's a filler chapter. It's just a chapter for the sake of transition to a bigger chapter, don't kill me. I promise you next chapter will not disappoint. And you may have also seen that I am a strong supporter of a different "Dair" - Dorota and Blair. I have no idea why this chapter was so Dorota-involved but I like it. (:

**Keep Your Hands On The Wheel**

* * *

><p><em><strong>...<strong>_

_**I guess what they say is true,**_

_**Love hurts. **_

_**I thought by now Queen B would've learned that lesson. **_

_**No worries B.**_

_**Class is in session.**_

_**xoxo**_

_**...**_

She stormed into the building waving the door man away and ordering Vanya to bring her luggage upstairs, her heels clicking confidently, despite her clouded disposition. She got into the elevator quickly. And that's when she broke. She had a long way before the penthouse.  
>She had time to shed a tear or two. Or twenty. She tried to breathe but she couldn't. She couldn't think. She had to remind herself to breathe. She struggled. She finally inhaled deeply and brought herself back to reality. She felt like she was spinning out of control.<p>

_Keep your hands on the wheel, Blair._

This isn't Blair Waldorf.  
>Blair Waldorf doesn't wear last season's Tori Burch flats or tights for pants.<br>And Blair Waldorf _definitely does not _break down in elevators over writers from _Brooklyn_. It just didn't happen.  
><em>What the hell am I doing? <em>She thought to herself scoldingly.  
>Blair Waldorf doesn't let any man make her cry.<br>No matter how much she loved him.  
>She thought she had learned her lesson with Chuck. She shook her head, wiped her eyes and said to herself, "Guess not."<br>By the time she reached her penthouse, she had gathered herself off of the floor, and pulled herself together, _somewhat_.  
>She was met at the elevator by a calm Dorota, always prepared for a 'Blair-breakdown'.<br>"Miss Blair? What's wrong?" She garnered a weak smile, trying to be comforting. Blair moved past her slowly and it was not lost on Dorota how Blair was shaking. She shook like a leaf, a petite, crumbling, Central Park leaf. And it broke Dorota's heart.  
>She felt like dying as she trudged up the stairs to her room.<br>Why was this happening to her? Hadn't she been through enough?  
>She had already dealt with so much in her life, couldn't one thing just be easy?<br>Being friends with Humphrey was supposed to be easy. And it turned out being the most difficult thing in the world.  
>She crawled underneath her endless covers and sought solace in their warmth.<br>She quietly let tears stream onto her pillow in a desperate attempt to maintain control.  
>"Miss Blair, what happened?" Dorota was at her door, looking extremely worried.<br>Blair let out a low sigh and Dorota watched as Blair let a few more tears slip down her cheeks,

"Dan Humphrey happened."

She felt the urge to scream into her pillow, as Dorota gently sat on the end of her bed.  
>"Mr. Humphrey?"<br>Blair sat up, frustrated.  
>"Yes, Dorota. Humphrey." She spat his name out, like it was a curse. And for her, in part, it was.<br>She laid back down on her bed, letting a few frustrated sobs escape her lips.  
>"Well, whatever he did, Miss Blair, I'm sure he did not mean it. And if he did, you have several tactical takedown maneuvers to choose from."<br>Dorota gave off a small smile, trying to alleviate the situation.  
>Blair gave into a small laugh, as Dorota pulled her into a hug.<br>After several moments of silence, Dorota felt tears seem into her uniform from Blair's eyes.  
>It was then that she heard the young woman let out an extremely exasperated sigh of pure frustration as she quickly withdrew herself.<br>"Dorota, I've told you several times, not to let me cry on your good uniform. Especially over Dan Humphrey. Now dab that, don't rub." The older maid saw the young woman's desperate attempt to keep control as she directed her on how to get mascara out of fine linen with a "Damn you, Covergirl."  
>Dorota approached the subject gingerly, not wanting to cause Blair anymore pain, and not wanting Blair to cause <em>her<em> pain.  
>"What did Mr. Humphrey do?"<br>After a long, quiet pause, she watched as Blair stared off into the distance, gathering her thoughts.

"The son of a bitch made me love him."

She said quietly, looking down at her hands.  
>It was the first time she admitted it to anyone out loud before.<br>Even herself.  
>And it was true.<br>It was so true that it broke her heart.  
>She felt it deep down inside her, it made her lose control. It made her not care about what anyone else thought. It made her want to throw caution to the wind, this mixed up pot of emotions dwelling for Dan Humphrey. Hatred, annoyance, intimidation, respect, admiration, desire, love.<br>She felt the control she always had, slipped from her fingers whenever he was around.  
>She always had to remind herself to keep her hands on the wheel, or she was going to get hurt.<br>And she was right.  
>Where she was right now, heartbroken and confused.<br>This must be the 'nowhere' Dan was talking about.  
>She sighed as she wiped the tears from her eyes and Dorota eyed her cautiously.<p>

"Miss Blair, you must remember that you are Blair Waldorf, and you can do anything. You are strong, resilient, brave. You come across far more treacherous paths than the likes of Dan Humphrey. You've single handedly saved a crumbling world for someone, one time or another. You are a heroine in a fairytale that has yet to be written. But it will. I promise, it will."  
>Blair laughed at how well Dorota knew her, and then sighed at what Dorota didn't know.<br>She went over to her suitcase and pulled out the book, _his book, _and tossed it on the bed in front of Dorota.

"Haven't you heard? It already has."

Blair could tell that Dorota had already read it based on the look of utter shock on her face.  
>"This is about you? Miss Blair is Audrey?"<br>Blair nodded the affirmative and Dorota sprung to her feet.  
>"Why are you crying? The man that wrote this book loves you, Miss Blair. This author, this man.." Blair cut her off.<p>

"The author is Dan Humphrey. That's why I'm crying. _That's_ why this is so hard.  
>Because I <em>know <em>he loves me. But he can't say it, and I don't know why.  
>And I suppose I reciprocate his feelings because I wrote them in an email, while I was lying in my luxurious suite in Monaco waiting for Prince Louie. I mean I must have lost my mind.<br>But I can't seem to say them here, because that makes them true.  
>That means Queen B of the Upper East Side is in love with Dan Humphrey the writer from Brooklyn.<br>And that means it real. And I don't know if I'm ready to admit that this could be real, yet."  
>She slowly sat down, soaking in all she, herself, had just said.<p>

Blair Waldorf had officially let go of the wheel.

...

Her words ring in his head.  
>Her voice still sharp in his mind.<p>

_"You were too much of a coward to tell a certain someone how you feel."_

_I really am a coward, _he thought to himself as soon as he got back to the loft, safe and sound on the other side of the bridge.  
>He hadn't meant she was the problem. It came out wrong. And spiraled down from there.<br>She was all he ever thought about, all he wanted.  
><em>That<em> was the problem.  
>Not her. How could she ever be the problem? She was right. Completely and utterly right.<br>He was a coward.  
>He hid his feelings and wrote them down in a book that he never thought would see the light of when she questioned him about it, he avoided it. At all costs. All he needed to do was say four words.<br>_I love you, Blair._  
>That's it. That's all he needed to say. And sure she might not reciprocate, but at least she would know.<br>_What the hell am I talking about?_ He shook his head quickly.  
><em>I did tell her how I feel. It was in the form of a 205 page book of unrequited love.<br>_And all she wrote was five words.  
>Five words.<br>_There is a two hundred page difference between those proclamations.  
><em>She's the one that needs to say it.  
><em>I spent the last two months trying to say it.<em>  
>It was her turn to decide what she wanted. It was her turn to wait by the phone everyday for a month, hoping that he would call.<br>It was her turn to feel something._  
><em>He grabbed a beer from the fridge and gulped it down thirstily.  
><em>Why did everything have to be so difficult? <em>He thought to himself, as he felt like pacing a path through the loft.  
>He loved her. She said, well wrote, that she loved him back. So, what's the problem?<br>He should be able to go up to her and kiss her like he wanted to. With the chemistry that only they seemed to have. She couldn't deny that.  
>All he could see during their first kiss was sparks, he smiled at the memory.<br>If that kiss didn't mean anything she wouldn't have locked herself up for three days, refusing to see him. He wouldn't have come back every day for a week with coffee until she spoke to him again.  
>And even then, they were curt brief sentences between scenes of Charade.<br>And she _hated_ Charade. He had only picked it to aggravate her enough so she would give in and talk to him. It worked, eventually.

"Humphrey, you know how much I _detest_ Charade."

She shot a glare his way, as he struggled suppressing a smile.

"I know, Waldorf. I'm sorry."

They got back on their movie-going schedule and coffee walks.  
>That's when he realized that he wanted more.<br>His mind drifted back from the memories of his first feelings for Blair Waldorf.  
>He sighed to himself, it wouldn't be so easy this time.<br>He couldn't just stalk her with coffee for a week like he had done after their kiss.  
>She would be on a flight back to Monaco, back to her prince, in less than 72 hours.<br>He had to make this fast, and make it mean something.  
>Intense guilt swept over his face, he knew she would be upset right now. Just as upset as him. He couldn't stand that he made her cry. But here he was thinking about plans to get her back, when he didn't even have her in the first place.<p>

_I am ridiculous, _he thought, _ridiculous and crazy._

And he had to be even more crazy to think that he could woo Blair Waldorf, make her leave her fiance, move back to New York, and make her admit that she loved him, in 72 hours.  
>But hell, if he made it this far he might as well go all out.<br>He had no idea why but she was worth it.

...

_Blair_

I sat in my bed with a small box of tissues and a large carton of ice cream.  
><em>"Chocolate, my only friend."<br>_I remembered the days before Humphrey.  
>Amazing, control-filled, delightful, Queen B days.<br>_He_ took that all away. _He _made me doubt myself. _He _made me lose control.  
><em>He<em> made me love him.  
>I scooped another large spoonful of chocolate ice cream and gulped it down.<p>

_Stop thinking about him, Blair._

_Stop it, just stop._

I closed my mouth around the spoon until all the ice cream was gone.  
><em>What the hell is going on with me?<br>_I partially blame myself for the argument, hindsight. But then again, it was Humphrey.  
>He turned me into a crazy, hysterical, overly argumentative, belligerent, lonely mess.<br>I wasn't used to that. I was supposed to be Queen B. The ruthless, conniving, feared leader.  
>Not the babbling brook of tears that Dan Humphrey turned me into.<br>Why did I like him so much?  
>Sure he was smart, and funny, and sweet, and respectful.<br>But that doesn't mean I had to turn into this.  
>What gave him the right to say those things to me?<br>Who does he think he is?  
>I feel the hot bubbling anger come into my stomach again.<br>_Alright Blair, this isn't anything we can't solve. Or start another fight over.  
><em>I feel my eyes prickling with tears.  
>I grab my purse and storm down the stairs.<br>_I will not let Dan Humphrey make me cry without a second word._

_..._

_**Watch out, Lonely boy.**_

_**It looks like Queen B is on her way to Brooklyn.**_

_**And she's running all the lights. **_

_**Let's hope this one doesn't crash and burn.**_

_**xoxo**_

_**...**_

_Dan_

How does she make me so crazy?  
>Let me count the ways..<p>

_**One**_, she is the evil dictator of the Upper East Side, thus knows how to wage war.

_**Two**_, I feel like she knows me in a way that no one else does. Needless to say that gives her the upper hand and me a problem.

_**Three**_, she smells good. It's not like I mean to notice these things, it just seems like shes always there, always breathing down my neck, with her pouty lips and her expensive cherry shampooed curls. It's absolute madness that I love her, let alone tolerate her.

_God, get a hold of yourself, Humphrey!_

Did you see that?

I can't even refer to myself as Dan anymore, she's got me warped on my sense of identity as well, that makes _**Four**_.

And_** Five**_, well, the way she can turn me into this mess of a man with one look.

She is the only woman who has ever made me question my whole knowledge of who I am.  
>And it drives me absolutely crazy.<br>I mean, what gives her the right?  
>I am my own person, I don't need Blair Waldorf storming in making everything topsy turvy just because I'm in love with her.<p>

Please.

_Oh my god. I did it again. _

I just admitted, again, that I love her, but my _Blair_ed up brain thinks that this is still a fight.  
>Like I could ever honestly stand a chance against Blair Waldorf.<br>As if I could ever _not_ be in love with her.  
>Well it isn't a fight, because she'd win everytime.<br>I can't deny how I feel about her anymore.  
>My brain is screaming no, but my heart is giving me the thumbs up.<br>I have to go for it.  
>I have to fight for her.<br>I have to fight for whatever this feeling was bursting through my veins.  
>It made me crazy, it made me sick, and tired, and exasperated. It made me lose control, it made me reckless, and inspired, and enlightened, and amazingly happy. This feeling took over my body everytime she's around.<br>Something like that is worth a few cuts and bruises over.  
>And I'm more than sure Blair Waldorf is in for a fight.<br>At least that's what I'm counting on. That's what I'm praying for.  
>She wants this just as much as I do.<br>I just have to get her to admit it.  
>I have to get her to feel what I feel.<br>Like I'm losing control in a car that I'm not even driving because the wheel isn't even there anymore.  
>That's how crazy this is.<br>But no matter how I spin it, she is my endgame.

She is the only thing I want to come out of this car wreck.

...


	5. Capturing the Queen

_**A/N: We're gettin' there kiddo's, stay with me. I know that I've toyed with your emotions for far too long. I hope this chapter will make up for it. (: And I've recently discovered that reviews are like chocolate to me. They always make me feel better and are vital to me staying alive :D The reviews I'm getting are absolutely incredible, and I could not ask for anything more. You guys are awesome :D And I'll apologize in advance, I'm sorry this chapter is so short compared to my other chapters. I hope you don't hold that against me. And I'm not honestly sure if I'll keep going with this or just leave it here. I'll see what you guys think and go from there.**_

Chapter 5: Capturing the Queen

_**Oh Lonely Boy,**_

**_I believe that is check and mate._**

**_There's only one way to win this game of chess now,_**

**_Capture the Queen._**

**_But remember, when you're playing games of the heart,_**

**_there's always a chance you might lose._**

**_xoxo_**

_**...**_

He sat there, alone.  
>And the only thing he heard was his own stupid heart beat.<br>It almost didn't phase him when the door he was sitting against was loudly knocked on.  
>He didn't want to answer it. He didn't want to pull himself off of the ground and face the world. <em><strong><br>**_When Dan opened the door, he had no clue what to expect.  
>What he didn't expect was a very revved up Blair on his doorstep.<br>The very same Blair who spent a cab ride huffing and grumbling over everything she hated and _absolutely couldn't stand_ about Dan Humphrey.  
>Only to realize that everything on that list happened to also be everything she liked about him.<br>Which frustrated and confused her even more than his disconcerting fondness for plaid.  
>And here she was, standing on his welcome mat.<br>Waiting for someone she never thought she would be waiting for.

"Blair. What a lovely surprise."

He rolled his eyes as she pushed her way past him into the loft.  
>"Save the sarcasm, Humphrey. We're not finished yet."<br>She eyed him, making him feel uneasy.  
>But he returned her gaze, causing her to tense under his eyes.<br>"I see your back for round 2."  
>He muttered more to himself than her.<br>She heard it nonetheless.  
>"I'm just here to let you know that we.." She motioned between them quickly, "are no longer friends."<br>She put her hands on her hips and tried to look confident, Dan recognized the front.  
>"Oh really?"<br>He gave her an inquiring raised eyebrow and she continued,  
>"Well you don't seem to like me much, remember?<br>And I'm becoming less and less fond of you, if that's at all possible."  
>He had to let a chuckle through. She was incorrigible.<br>"Blair. Did you not hear a word I said during that fight?"  
>Before he could continue she cut him off, "It was a little hard to hear over you being a hypocritical ass."<br>It rolled off his back, _Come on Dan, you can do this, _he thought.  
>"I said you need to stop trying to control how other people feel." He said softly.<br>She looked down for a moment. "It's not like you tell me how you feel, ever. It leads me to assume.." She looked up and this time he cut her off.  
>"Assume what Blair? That I hate you?"<br>His voice sounded harsh. She swallowed hard and nodded.  
>"I don't hate you, and you know it." He said harshly, feeling this ever constant frustration that comes over him whenever shes around.<br>She matched his frustration, "How am I supposed to know if you never tell me?"  
>He turned away, his back to her, exhausted.<br>"I don't know Blair, you tell me." He said it quietly and remissive, as if he'd given up.  
>She pushed on, not wanting this fight to be over before the words were said.<br>She stood next to him and with a presence that demanded his attention.  
>"No. <em>You<em> tell _me_, Dan. I want to hear it from you.  
>Not from Gossip Girl, or the last twenty five pages of your book."<br>She took a breath and paused, "_You_."  
>He turned back to her, angry, frustrated, confused, and still driven out of his mind by her.<br>"What do you want to hear Blair? That I find you extremely aggravating and frustrating? That I think you're pushy and demanding, or.."  
>He took a breath and his voice faltered a little,<br>"Or unbelievably beautiful?  
>Or do you want to know how my world literally stops turning when you're not around?<br>That every time you're in the room, _my heart stops_.  
>Or how whenever you smile, I can't seem to catch my breath.<br>Or do you want to hear the fact that I am_ so in love with you_, it hurts to _breathe_.  
>Fine, Blair. I'll tell you. But like you said, what the hell does it change?"<br>His voice grew soft towards the end, almost making it sound like he's in pain.  
>And in part, he was.<br>Trying to love Blair Waldorf, was like trying to stop a freight train with your bare hands; it was impossible and in the end you were bound to get crushed, and you're gone beyond belief.  
>That's where he was.<br>Gone beyond belief.  
>Trapped in this up in the air limbo, just waiting for her to find him.<br>Because she's the only one who could.  
>He looked deep in her eyes, now brimming with tears.<br>She took a step forward.  
>That was all she needed.<br>They were face to face. Inches apart.  
>He spoke his question again, almost as if pleading for her to find some answer, "What does it change?"<br>She spoke quietly and looked him straight in the eye.  
>"<em>Everything<em>, Humphrey. It changes everything."  
>Her lips collided with his in a way that neither of them were expecting.<br>This overwhelming, overdosing, dizzying desire.  
>The feeling both of them had in the pit of their stomachs.<br>She gasped and clasped at his shirt collar and he pulled her waist closer, anything to be closer.  
>Her eyes were tightly shut, but she would swear to God that she saw sparks.<br>Sparks that flew like bullets, whizzing and whirring past them.  
>When they pulled apart to take a breath, their eyes connected, lighting each other on fire.<br>"I love you."  
>They don't know who said it first, but it had found its way out of both of their mouths.<br>They were playing a high risk battle of chess now. Pawns in the same space.  
>Move for move, they matched each other.<br>He felt the only thing that mattered was capturing the Queen.  
>Her heart was on the line just as much as his was.<br>They gently pulled apart, neither of them opening their eyes for what felt like too long.  
>Their breath mingled together in front of their faces, close.<br>His hands were still on her cheeks and her forehead was against his.  
>They didn't move.<br>A bomb could've hit Brooklyn, and neither one of them would've even flinched.  
>After a while she finally took a deep breath and moved her hands on top of his hands placed on her cheeks. And she breathed slowly. Steady.<br>There was this cosmic pull between them.  
>Pushing, pulling, <em>dragging<em> them together, kicking and screaming.  
>And it scared them more than anything.<br>But what did they have to lose?  
><em>Besides everything<em>.  
>Her friends, her fairytale, her crown.<br>His ideals, his modesty, his self-preservation.  
>But none of it would ever be enough without each other.<br>This was bigger than either of them imagined it would be.  
>Larger and more terrifyingly real than they had expected.<br>What seemed like a harmless loathing crush between non-friends ended up breaking the barriers of everything they had ever known. Everything they thought they knew.  
>Blair Waldorf was the Queen of the Upper East Side.<br>And Dan Humphrey was the lonely boy from Brooklyn.  
>He was a pauper.<br>And she was a princess.  
>But somehow they had found their way to each other.<br>Through all the drama, the laughter, the gossip blasts, the heartache.  
>They, the most unlikely of duos, found themselves coming to grips with what they had been running from for all these years. A genuine chance at being happy. A chance that many people never get. And here it was just waiting for them to take. If they could just get past their pride.<br>If they could take that leap of faith off the bridge.  
>She was the one to break the silence, naturally.<br>"Dan."  
>She breathed his name like it was the last word she'd ever say.<br>Dan opened his eyes and looked into hers, expectantly. He dropped his eyes,  
>"I know."<br>He knew he shouldn't get his hopes up, after all she was Blair, and he was _Humphrey_.  
>"Humphrey, you have no idea what I was going to say."<br>She gave him a reassuring smile, as if reading into his insecurities.  
>His eyes shot up, "Well, what were you going to say?"<br>He tried not to make his voice sound too hopeful, too desperate.  
>"What did you think I was going to say?" She raised a curious eyebrow.<br>He gulped, "Well I think you were going to say something along the lines of,  
>'this means nothing, Humphrey.'"<br>He gave her a weary smile, trying to hide his anguish.  
>She beamed at him, very amused. He continued eyes still downcast,<br>"And that's alright, you know. If this was a mistake, you don't have to act like everything's fine.  
>You can leave. And pretend that this never happened."<br>He looked up at her nervously, too nervous to shed the worried look in his eyes.  
>She stared straight into his. Burning holes with her hazel eyes.<br>His eyes were downcast again, and he thought he must look like such a pansy.  
>She looked at him for a few more seconds and then she laughed.<br>And she moved over to his movie collection, slowly scanning the selections.  
>Her laugh surprised him. He hadn't been expecting that.<br>But she was Blair Waldorf, all expectations go out the window with her.  
>He shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure of what she was feeling.<br>She turned back and saw his confused face, which made her giggle even more.  
>"Dan Humphrey,"<br>She approached him confidently,  
>"Do you honestly think I'm going to leave and let you think that you <em>won<em> that argument?"  
>He smiled down at her beaming face, and kissed her again.<br>Sparks. Bright and white hot sparks erupted from both of them.  
>And there they were, <em>Waldorf and Humphrey<em>.  
>It was at this point that she thought about her own words some weeks ago,<br>"_Dan and Blair. Individual entities. Two nouns separated by a conjunction."_  
>But now they were not separated by a conjunction,<br>a gossip girl blast,  
>an ocean,<br>or a bridge.  
>Dan and Blair.<br>Two completely in love entities brought together by their witty banter and intellectual charm,  
>held together by their natural stubborn-ness and refusal to let the other one win;<br>and here _together_, in _Brooklyn_ of all places.  
>She rolled her eyes.<br>And thought to herself, as they started to watch Roman Holiday with her head on Dan's shoulder,  
><em>I still can't stand Brooklyn. Or plaid.<em>  
>But Blair loved Dan.<br>And Dan loved Blair.  
>And they could not find a way to plausibly deny the fact that they were absolutely crazy.<br>But in their minds, it was so much better than being bored and alone.


End file.
